Sordid Details Following
by CityofDaydreams
Summary: A boy's found dead on a common. A little girl with her grey elephant won't tell anything. Someone's hurt her. Someone's hurt him. Now Gene's spiralling down again. Shush - don't tell anyone. GenexAlex
1. Prologue

_A/N: Um, not quite sure what's going to become of this fic, but here's the prologue. I'd really appreciate it if people could tell what they think, and if I should carry on. Thanks._

_Disclaimer: None of the following is mine apart from a pinch of artistic license. _

Sordid Details Following

Prologue

There was nothing in all hell, heaven and earth that Gene Hunt hated more than dreams.

Unfortunately for him all the scum of cockney London couldn't match up to this one.

The bedding threw crazy shadows off the street light lit walls as he thrashed, sweat gathering into streams across his brow.

At one point his eyes shot open, the cold, haunted look they held almost freezing the rest of the room.

Then all was quiet again and the night wore on.

XxX

"_Oi! Genie!" _

_The voice cut through his thoughts like a kitchen knife through butter. The warm, golden feeling that had engulfed him as he'd sat with the book clasped in his hands in the shade of the summer day melted away as he looked up, blinded for a moment by the sun._

"_What?"_

"_Mum says Dad's comin' 'ome so if I were yer I'd get yer arse outta 'ere." _

_Gene sighed slightly and looked towards his younger brother "I'll bloody tell yer if I need yer bloody advice." He snapped angrily, clamouring to his feet, his book still gripped in one hand._

_His brother shrugged "Suit yerself." He muttered and turned around, back towards the house. "But yer've got ten minutes tops if yer not feelin' cocky."_

_Gene chewed his lip, staring towards the tree that stood in the dump that the estate had to call a park, a couple of streets down the road. He shrugged; chancing sunburn had got to be better for what waited for him if he stayed at home._

XxX

"_Where the fuck do yer think yer've fuckin' bin?" He snarled as he pinned the teenager to the wall, his fist inches from the boy's face._

"_I told yer, I ain't bin nowhere." Gene growled back, his blue eyes flashing defiantly._

"_I take too much of your shit boy!" His father swore; spit flying into his son's face. "I come 'ome after a bloody 'ard day's work and what do I get but shit in return?"_

_Gene glared at him, sucking in a breath angrily "You think you bloody take shit!" The teenager almost roared "I've 'ad to put up with you all my bloody life!"_

_There was a silence that settled like a heavy cloth, suffocating and never ending as all the eyes in the room where suddenly fixed on Gene, still pinned to the wall._

_His mother let out what sounded like a sob as his father's fist crashed into the side of his head and he fell, tumbling down to the ground as a boot collided with his stomach._

"_Yer'll apologise to me!" The man bellowed as his son curled up in pain, his hands wrapped around his stomach. His father kicked him in the head._

"_Then yer'll apologise to yer mother for being a bastard of a son. And then yer'll apologise to yer brother for being a bastard of a brother." He spat at the boy on the carpet _

"_Then yer'll get the fuck out of my 'ouse an' yer won't fuckin' come back till yer've learnt some fuckin' manners."_

_Gene swore at him, the world spinning in a crazy mass of black and white and blood red. "Fuck off."_

"_Apologise!" His father almost screamed at him, slamming his boot deep into his son's side and then reaching down and grabbing him by his shirt, throwing him hard into the wall. _

_There was a shudder as the house shook, the ancient, wobbling foundations creaking ominously._

_Gene swore again as the world started to black around the edges._

_His father kicked him harder and then hoisted him to his feet, throwing open the front door and holding him before it for a moment._

_The stench of decay and stale beer and fags twisted up Gene's nostrils, choking him. _

_His father smiled savagely and in one swift movement hurled him out into the street. _

_Gene's head almost bounced off the concrete as the world went black, blood soaking through his hair._


	2. Waste, Whiskey and Wenches

_A/N: Thank you all so much for the lovely reviews, they really made my day! hands out cookies This chapter's a little bit more of a scene setting one but I promise more action next time…_

_Disclaimer: None of the included characters (save Nellie) are mine. _

XxX

_'_The old believe everything, the middle-aged suspect everything, the young know everything.' – Oscar Wilde

Chapter One – Waste, Whiskey and Wenches

The scene was a desolate one, almost deserted but for the few officers who huddled together under the wind swept trees.

Gene surveyed the scene, police tape fluttering in the breeze as he stood on the tarmac, brightly coloured, painted lines stretching away under his feet. A swing was creaking with every gust of wind, sending echoes dancing eerily away across the playground.

He pulled in a breath and closed his eyes for a second, images flashing before him – tears and blood and foul words stretching into the darkness.

He shook his head, trying to kick them away as he turned to his DI, standing next to him, her curls flying back in the wind.

She was shattered; he could see it in the dark circles that had gathered like storm clouds under her pretty blue eyes. The sun had only just begun to rise over another dreary March day but the shadows were fighting back and he knew it would be some time before anything near morning.

"The plods know anythin' yet?" He asked gruffly, staring over to where Chris and Ray stood, cigarette smoke streaming from their lips.

She shook her head "Not much," She murmured sleepily "The boy's about eight, sustained heavy injures, probably died about midnight."

He nodded and didn't speak again, wandering slowly over to the slides were a group of officers had gathered, whispering almost clandestinely to each other.

He strode straight through; the plod's parting like a sea around him as he laid eyes on the little boy who lay, half covered by the dull plastic of the slide, in a pool of his own blood.

It was a sickening scene. The blood had dried; matting his brown curls to his head, twisting them into the deep, slanting wound that ran the length of his face, disappearing at his chin.

The front of his blue t-shirt was soaked with blood where his attacker's knife had carried on cutting. One hand rested across his chest, the other was by his side, gripping something to him.

Gene stared down, bile burning at his throat.

"He was just a kid." He heard one of the plod's mutter "How could anyone do that to a kid?"

There was another gust of wind and he felt his DI stir next to him. He turned on her, his eyes flashing for a moment as they prepared to vent his fury on whoever was closest.

But something stopped him.

Maybe it was the way she was just standing there, her teeth embedded into her lip, fists clenched, eyes welling with sudden tears. Maybe it was the horrible, haunted look that those eyes held. Maybe it was that for a moment she looked so helpless and pathetic, her makeup gone, her curls limp.

Whatever it was, suddenly he wanted to hold her, to protect her, to drag her away from this whole desperate situation.

But then the scene moved on, the officers around him moving away as the forensics team appeared in a storm of iodine and white lab coats. When he looked back again she was gone, disappeared over to talk to the plods.

He sighed and shook his head. _Get a grip Gene, she's too good for you and you know it._

And with this thought barrelling around his head, he set off to find Ray and Chris.

XxX

"Toby Whitley." He shrugged at her as she sat on the edge of the desk, her perfume floating across the room to drift around his mind. He swore there was something more sinister about bloody perfume than women made out…

She looked hard at him, knowing all too well that he was quite prepared to pin this one on anyone who happened to be passing. They all wanted it off their hands but she wasn't going to let him revert to the Gene Sam had known without a fight.

"How'd you know?"

"That bastard's done this before." He muttered, the whisky glass clicking against the desk as his span it slowly between his fingers.

"You can't just pin it on a known offender Gene…"

He cut her off. "While back, first job, there'd been some kids killed in the West End. Slash 'cross the chest, found in parks, playgrounds. Caught the bastard as well, nailed 'im good and proper but 'e got off thanks to your bloody mate, Evan." He glared across the surface at her almost contemptuously.

"So the injures are similar, it could be some freak following their demented hero's example?" She ranted feeling like she was fighting a losing battle but deciding to ignore the barbed comment that was once again directed at her godfather.

He stared hard at her and then laughed slightly; it was a cold, mirthless sound that seemed to ring for longer than was natural.

"Look Bols, yer might 'ave come 'ere with all yer fancy ways of doin' stuff but screw yer forensics and yer circumstantial evidence, I know I'm right. 'E was a bastard an' he should 'ave been put away a long time ago."

He sighed and ran a hand over his forehead. "I spoke to 'im once, asked why the 'ell 'e did it. He told me 'e liked to hear 'em scream. Said 'e needed to destroy somethin' beautiful, somethin' innocent."

Alex shivered, the images from the morning dancing around her as she watched Gene's eyes cloud over, anger and disgust reflected back at her as he spoke the words seared into his conscience.

"Fine," She murmured "But real, hard evidence this time, alright? Then we'll bring him down forever."

Gene nodded and sighed quietly, a silence settling between them as he stared over her shoulder, into the clamour and commotion of the office.

"You've gotta daughter ain't yer Bols?" He asked suddenly, his eyes drifting back to her, now looking slightly paler.

She nodded, a sad smile stretching across her face.

"What's 'er name?"

Alex looked at him curiously, surprised by his sudden interest. "Molly." She replied, deciding to humour him. "She's twelve."

He smiled and nodded slightly, a faraway look misting his stormy blue eyes. "You love 'er?"

_That was a strange question_, Alex thought.

"Yes, hugely."

He seemed to swallow slightly and for a moment Alex thought she caught something far below his skin, a flash of a very different man under all of the brash, violent armour.

Then it was gone as he turned to the door, a knock interrupting their conversation.

"Yes Christopher?" He asked, throwing the burning whiskey back as the door opened.

"Erm…" Chris faltered, standing in the frame and chewing his lip slightly nervously. "There's a kid down in th'office waitin' for yer Guv." He muttered "She won't speak to no one else."

Gene sighed and closed his eyes for a moment before turning to his DI.

"Bols, I want everythin' we 'ave on Toby Whitley. Got it?"

She nodded "Yes Ge-Guv."

Then he was off again, disappearing into the clamour of the office.

XxX

The girl in the entrance looked about eight but was so painfully thin she could have been much older. Her blonde hair looked like it had been attacked with felt tip pens and her blue eyes were so big they could have been traced from saucers.

She wasn't particularly tall and so standing in the hallway next to London's resident Manc Lion she looked tiny and fragile, almost like a doll.

She'd told the plod's she knew who'd killed Ashley James. Then she'd asked to see Gene Hunt.

He stared down at her, so frail and small she looked like you could snap her just by breathing on her and sighed.

"S'yer name love?" He asked gruffly, leaning against the wall.

She looked up at him and chewed her lip, as if she was working out something horribly complicated. "Nellie Whitley."

The DCI was suddenly more alert. "What's yer dad's name?"

She glared up at him suspiciously. "I came 'ere cus I know 'oo killed Ashley James. I day come 'ere to tell yow me family 'istory."

He stared down at her for a moment and then his face cracked into a smile. Surrounded by posh birds and plod's who sounded like they'd come straight off the box it was strangely comforting to meet someone who didn't care what they sounded like and had probably never heard of a double negative in their lives.

"Go on then." He shrugged at her. "'Oo killed 'im."

Her blue eyes glazed over for a moment, like a fault in a china factory as her brow crinkled into a frown. "Car tell ya." She murmured softly. "Ain't worth it."

"Why'd yer come then?" He asked quizzically, a little put out by her answer.

"Cos…" She sighed loudly and looked back up at him and he caught the tears that were welling in her eyes. "Cos I thought, I thought yow'd 'elp." She muttered "Dunno why I thought that."

As he looked at her, flyaway blonde hair twisting across her cheeks, her huge sky blue eyes filling with desperation, something stirred in him that hadn't moved for a very long time.

"Come 'ere." He murmured, holding out a rough hand "We'll go find yer sommot to eat, pink wafers or somethin'." He smiled comfortingly. "'ow's that?"

She brightened instantly, a smile springing to her dull lips. "Yeah," She beamed at him. "D'Like that a lot."

XxX


	3. Nellie the Elephant

_A/N: Sorry that it's been such a long time since I updated last, had a bit of writer's block (sighs) Hoping to get the next chapter up by the weekend as I know what's going into that now but no promises I'm afraid. _

_Thanks again for all the lovely reviews!_

_Oh and a little Brummie translation may be required here. Cantin' – Talking. Please tell me if there's anything else people don't understand._

_Disclaimer: None of this is mine._

XxX

Chapter Two – Nellie the Elephant

Somewhere in the background a clock was counting down the seconds, ticking moments away with every movement of the slender arm that clicked around the face.

It echoed slightly in the silence, piercing into the thoughts of the pair, both backed up against the mildly warm radiator thanks to a blip in central heating.

Nellie shivered, drawing her knees closer up to her chin. "Yow's gonna send me 'ome in a minute ain't yow." She sighed quietly, her fingers twisting her blonde locks nervously.

He glanced down at her, moving slightly so that his back was digging into a less painful part of the radiator.

"Says 'oo?" He asked, taking another mouthful of his whiskey, the liquid filling him with a warm glow that only alcohol could ever achieve.

"Well I gotta go 'ome some time ain't I?" She murmured, her eyes drawn upwards to the glass, the office almost deserted but for the few plonks who hadn't managed to squeeze themselves into the boiler room.

He shrugged "Yer want to go 'ome?"

"No."

"Then you can stay 'ere."

Silence descended for a while and then Nellie smiled.

"Me dad likes westerns." She murmured, staring around Gene's office, her eyes alighting on the posters.

When he failed to reply she carried on "Me dad got us thrown out," She sighed, slightly less enthusiastically. "Gaffer said sommot 'bout Lucy's diamonds an' the coppers so Dad moved us 'ere."

"Yer like London?"

"No." She stopped and then glanced back up at him "Yow's not from round 'ere either."

"No. From Manchester me." He muttered almost proudly.

"Ahr." She nodded "Yow bet up me Uncle yow no that?"

He glanced down at her, tipping his whiskey back, his throat burning. "Toby Whitley. Yeah I know that."

She sighed heavily "He day kill 'em yow no." She muttered, sounding a little angry. "There weren't any need to knock 'im up."

He shrugged "If it bothered yer so much, why come an' see me?"

She chewed her lip thoughtfully, her fingers intertwining around her skinny knees. "Cos…" She stopped "Cos I knew if 'e came to 'urt me I cud 'ide behind yow." She finished with the slightest hint of a grin.

He thought about this for a minute and then he smiled, laughing softly "I'll look after yer," He murmured gruffly to her, holding out a rough hand "No one'll 'urt you Nels."

XxX

Alex stood, her back to the whiteboard, the pen that she'd been waving about agitatedly moments ago still clamped between her fingers.

"Ray?" She hissed, rounding angrily on the unfortunate DS "Where the hell is he?"

Ray shrugged, his feet propped up against the desk as he craned his neck to get a better look at the swing doors. "Ain't got a clue boss."

Alex rolled her eyes, turning around and staring aggressively at the board, as if somehow she could take out her frustration on the shining white surface.

Thankfully, the board was spared for at that moment with a crash that would wake the dead, Gene Hunt strode through the doors, Chris trailing dejectedly behind him.

"Where the hell do you think…?"

He cut her off with a look "Sortin' out Nels, where the 'ell d'yer think I was Bols, mars?"

She tutted at him and moved back towards the board.

"Right!" Gene barked, turning around to face the department "I want all ears on this yer got that?"

"Yes Guv." Came the sigh and on went the show.

XxX

"_I day do it! Why the 'ell…" _

_The man was cut off by a whack around the head, his forehead slamming off the wood for the nth time._

"_We know yer did it Toby. Why don't yer just confess yer a murdering bastard?" Gene shot at him, his voice eerily calm for a worrying but unknown reason._

_Toby looked at him for a moment, the silence deafening but for the tick of the tape recorder as it tracked the seconds._

"_Cos I dayn't." He murmured finally "One of them kid were me cousin. I ain't gonna kill me own cousin are I?" _

_Gene smiled, a slightly snake like quality creeping across his lips "We got yer fingerprints Toby. Courts aren't gonna like that are they?"_

_The room lapsed into silence again, Toby chewing his lip nervously._

"_I wanna lawyer." _

_Gene shrugged "Take yer pick." He offered "Raymundo, go get this pounce the bloody phone directory."_

_Ray laughed, smacking his victim around the head once more for good measure as he left the room._

_Gene grinned maliciously and lent over the table, so close the Brummie could feel smell the alcohol on his breath. "Yer ain't gonna get off this one Toby." He muttered._

_Then he was gone._

XxX

"Toby Whitley is thirty-three, no known children but several nieces and nephews in the area." Alex sighed, consulting her notes. "He moved from the Birmingham area in '75 and a year later most of his family followed."

She turned back to the board as an agitated sigh rose from the rest of the room.

"As you can see from the chart he has had four known convictions for possessing cocaine and is a suspected supplier to the surrounding area. In June last year he was arrested on suspicion of carrying out the murders of four children between five and ten in the West End area. Although his fingerprints were found around the scenes of most of the crimes he was let off by the jury. Michael Bailey, another Midlander was arrested four months later and charged."

Gene growled quietly, his eyes flashing slightly. Alex glanced in his direction.

"Do you have something to add, Guv?"

Gene shrugged "Bailey was a bastard and everyone 'ere knows it but 'e didn't deserve what 'e got."

The rest of the men murmured their agreement.

"'e was a scapegoat ma'am." Shaz piped up from the back. "A division needed to 'rest someone."

Alex nodded "So we know Michael Bailey didn't do it." She glanced down at her notes. "And it can't possibly be him this time anyway."

Gene stood up, marching over to the board and jabbing the blurry picture of Toby Whitley that was blue tacked crookedly to the surface.

"Right, I want some plods over to the area, see if anyone's seen the bastard lately. If they 'ave I want them pullin' in." He paused and glanced around at his DS "Ray, I want you an' Chris to come with me to the 'ouse. Bring yer guns."

Alex glanced at him suddenly feeling very overlooked. "What about me?"

But Gene didn't get time to contemplate this one as milliseconds later Viv burst in through the door, strangely out breath.

"Mr Whitley Guv, I think he wants his little girl back."

XxX

Jeremy Whitley was not a happy man. He knew a kid had been killed up on the common and now his little girl was missing.

So it can be expected that on seeing Gene Hunt marching down the corridor at him, his thoughts were not particularly wholesome ones.

"What the fuckin' 'ell d'yow think yow's playin' at?! Me wife's out of 'er tree worryin'!" He exploded as soon as the DCI was in relative shouting distance.

Gene stopped, a frown etched deep into his weather beaten features. "Chris," He bellowed over his shoulder at his DC. "Go and fetch Miss Whitley from the canteen would yer."

He then turned his burning gaze on the man in front of him. Like Nellie, he was pitifully short, his stark blonde hair sticking up in disorderly tufts from his forehead. He hardly looked over twenty-five.

"Yer daughter, Mr Whitley, is now a key witness in this murder inquiry." Gene spat authoritive at him, easily towering over the Midlander.

But Nellie's father wouldn't be dwarfed so easily, especially not by a copper. "She's only a babby, yow car keep 'er 'ere!"

"'fraid we can Mr Whitley. Yer see, she thinks she might be in danger from someone. Wonder 'oo ay?"

Whitley growled slightly "Me brother 'ad nothin' to do with it Mr Hunt." He roared as the doors opened and Nellie emerged from behind Gene.

Her father grabbed her hand almost roughly, yanking her to his side. "They ain't 'urt yow 'ave they bab?"

"Nah Dad, they's bin real nice. Jus' bin cantin' ferra while." She stopped and glanced up at him. "Yow brought me elephant?"

He nodded, drawing a small, grubby grey elephant from his jacket pocket. One of the eyes had fallen out and been replaced by a cross stitch and its ears were not in a good way. But it had obviously been horribly loved.

She grinned "Thanks." She smiled, hugging the toy close and smiling up at Chris "This is Nellie too." She beamed.

He smiled back at her "Take care of 'er love."

Whitley shot him a glare, staring at his daughter suspiciously and then glowering back up at Gene. He paused for a moment and then sent a gob of spit flying towards the floor, finishing its journey as a bubbling mess at the DCI's feet.

"Yow leave me family alone 'unt." He snarled as he pulled Nellie around and almost frogmarched her out of the station.

Gene turned around to his DI, a scowl permanently engraved into his face.

"See Drake, lovely people."

XxX

Luigi's was quietening down, Chris and Ray completely stoned in one corner, Shaz giggling every now and again, half at her magazine and half at the looks on the two boy's face.

Gene stared around at them, rolling his eyes good naturedly. "Puffs." He muttered to himself, taking another swig from the wine bottle Bolly had plonked on the table next to him a few hours previously. She'd told him he looked like he needed it – she hadn't known just how much.

He turned back around when he realised she was staring at him, her blue eyes sparking with drunk curiosity.

"Why are you so bothered about all this Gene?" She asked quietly, her words slurring slightly as she lent forward.

He could feel her breath on his face, the warm glow tickling at his heartstrings. She was far too close for comfort, somehow the drink made her able to do this, break through his first defences – catch him off guard.

"They're kids." He replied gruffly "S'not like other shit."

She shrugged, her hand suddenly coming down on his, her fingers dancing absentminded patterns against his skin. "I reckon," She mumbled, swaying slightly on the bar stool. "That you're hiding something."

"Oh yes Bolly." He muttered sarcastically.

She nodded at him, suddenly looking very school teacher like (albeit a very drunk school teacher). "Yes, and I think that it's something that happened when you were very, very small." She concluded with a slight flourish.

Gene couldn't help smiling at her. There was something he found horribly sweet about Alex Drake when she was drunk. Maybe it was due to the fact her brain wasn't quite engaged enough to work out who she was talking to. Poor sod probably thought she was still talking to the Martians.

"Well Bols, yer want ter know what I've deducted from all this?"

She stared at him intensely, her ocean blue eyes suddenly searching far deeper than he was happy with. He shifted slightly, staring at her hand, still resting on his.

"Yes?" She breathed, her breath still dancing against his cheek, the alcohol rolling off it.

"That you're very drunk." He murmured finally "And for that reason yer should be in bed Bols." He sighed finally, standing back up and letting her hand fall back to the work surface.

"I'll see yer tomorrow." He muttered as he headed towards the direction of Luigi and the nightly bill.

"Sleep well Bols." He allowed himself to murmur, so softly it almost never hit the airwaves.

_Stop. _His brain mumbled sleepily _She's still far too good for you Gene. _

XxX

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